Luck? Yeah right. [completed]

[ofmibu.livejournal.com]

Character(s): Saitou and NPCs
Content: Saitou being rescued by NPCs and brought to Aiches to recover.
Setting: around Niflheim
Time: late evening
Warnings: none~


Some people call him lucky to be surviving so many battles and disasters, but he really would like to disagree. For one, having one's foot jammed under a million tonnes of rubble is not a nice feeling when one is still alive. And another, one needs to smoke when one is alive, and it is not a nice feeling to be running out of cigarettes either. Also, it seems that having his head bashed made him call himself 'one' like a certain red-headed battousai does. How awful.

Saitou takes another drag from his cigarette, gingerly shifting a little to give his broken left arm some space. He has been sitting here for quite some time now. While he is conveniently hidden from the strange white creatures, he is also hidden from any passerby who might help him. He can call out, sure, but he won't.

He can get out and go to a hospital himself. Saitou will do that once he finishes this one cigarette, or two. That is none of your business.

Comments

[ofmibu.livejournal.com]

Saitou raises one curious eyebrow when a young man spots him and proceeds to remove the stones from his leg. He did not need the help really, but it is welcomed, of course. Saying nothing, Saitou stubs his cigarette on a slab of concrete beside him which is littered with used cigarettes by now. When his leg is finally free, Saitou tries to shift his position a little. The tiny movement sends a searing pain through his body, but he doesn't even let out a tiny wince.

When the two professionals came over his way, Saitou lets them examine him however they want. He is too tired to argue. When the female doctor checks his ribs for fractures, he takes a sharp breath when her fingers reach the lower part of his chest. The woman with antennae truly made sure he is defeated. Saitou is barely alive as it is, but half is more than good enough for him. He has more than nine lives after all.

Very grateful to the three people, Saitou says nothing and lets them examine him whichever way. He stays quiet while they discuss where they should take him. He does not mind any hospital anyways. To tell the truth, Saitou never really cared much about taking proper care of his wounds. Often, he would just bind them with whatever cloth he can find. The best treatment he ever had would be from his wife.

Saitou is not exactly young anymore, and he knows that, really. Closing his eyes, he tries to ease the throbbing in his head while being carried on the stretcher. He hopes they are not having much trouble carrying him around. Upon being moved into the rickshaw, Saitou has become a little more lucid even though he is still unable to make out who the person sitting beside him is. All of them are fair-haired and blue-eyed. "Hey," he croaks to whoever is beside him. "What's your name?" A wolf of Mibu serves no one, but that doesn't mean it is forever ungrateful.